Preventative Measures
by arainymonday
Summary: Kurt isn't ready for a physical relationship with Blaine, so he suggests his boyfriend take 'preventative measures' before their dates ... just like he does. Rated for explicit sexual content.


**Disclaimer: **I'm just playing in the Glee sandbox. If you recognize it from elsewhere, I don't own it.

**Warnings:** Rated M for explicit sex.

**Author's Note:** This story was previously posted on my alias, letmeseeyourpeacock. There are a few stories on that account that I'm proud of, so I decided to post them here as well. I have edited for typos, but everything else about the story remains the same. I hope you enjoy.

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><p><strong>PREVENTATIVE MEASURES<strong>

Dating Kurt was a privilege that Blaine never wanted to take for granted. The saucy countertenor drove him crazy in the best ways imaginable. He had a wicked sense of humor, lightning quick wit, and angelic singing voice. It didn't hurt that he was the most beautiful boy Blaine had ever seen. From his designer clothes to silky hair to flawless skin, everything about him appealed to Blaine.

He was also sexy as fuck and totally clueless about it.

The first few weeks had been relatively easy for Blaine. They went on dates very similar to what they'd done when they were just friends, only they kissed at the end. Then they'd proceeded to making out in the alcove near the library … and the one by the science labs … and in the back of Kurt's car … and the list went on and on. Things got a little more difficult for Blaine then, because his hormones refused to listen to his brain. His brain told him perfectly logical things like "Kurt is completely virginal and not ready for this" while his hormones said stupid things like "touch, touch, touch!"

Blaine prided himself on being in control of his emotions, however, and was determined to make that control extend to his hormones as well. He did a remarkably good job for the next several weeks. And then _that_ night happened. The one where nothing extraordinary happened but everything spiraled out of control anyway.

They were coming back from a sing-along at the revival theater in Westerville, and Kurt was dropping Blaine off at his house. They walked to the door hand-in-hand, but didn't go inside because Blaine's dad was home.

"I'll see you Monday after school for coffee, right?" Blaine asked.

"Of course. Do you even need to ask?"

Kurt cupped Blaine's jaw and leaned in close for a goodnight kiss. Or what Blaine thought was going to be a goodnight kiss. They never pushed these things too far when parents were nearby. He didn't know what did it, maybe the fact that he tasted like the chocolate and coffee they'd just finished or the way he'd gotten his outfit just right today, but Kurt kissed him harder and longer than usual.

His lips felt warm and so right against Blaine's, and their lips danced together perfectly, and in all his life, Blaine had never been kissed so thoroughly. He felt opened up and on display for Kurt, and his body shuffled forward of its own accord because being touched by this boy was a privilege no one else had ever received, and he wanted more.

Kurt shifted and conformed his body to Blaine's closeness. Every twitch of his lips and press of his fingertips drew Blaine in more. It was so new, this method of kissing and touching, because normally they exercised a deliberate control over themselves. Blaine found that he liked it immensely. He adjusted his body until Kurt was flush against him. And he felt it. Through the layers of clothes between them, Kurt was hard.

_Kurt_ had a _boner_ for _Blaine_.

Blaine's brain went fuzzy, and he lost the battle against his hormones. His body felt on fire with desire. His dick responded by hardening, and not just a little bit. Some stupid voice in his lust-addled brain told him it would be an awesome idea if he seized Kurt's hips and pulled their bodies together while he licked Kurt's bottom lip. So he did it.

Kurt gave a high-pitched whimper and pushed him back. His boyfriend stared at him, wide-eyed and … shit. Afraid. Blaine's breathing came harshly. He felt jittery and unfocused and struggled to form a coherent sentence. The uncomfortable bulge in his pants embarrassed him profoundly.

"Jesus. Kurt, I'm so sorry."

The countertenor looked away sharply. His already pale skin had gone ghostly white, and Blaine saw a tremble in his jaw. Fuck. He ran a hand through his hair, or the parts of his hair with less gel to hamper his fingers. What, exactly, could he say here? He knew how badly he'd messed up.

"I'm – I'm not ready for this yet, Blaine," Kurt said very quietly. "I'm sure that's very frustrating for you, and I'm sorry about that. But I can't do this right now. I've tried to –"

"Kurt, you don't have to explain yourself. If you're not ready, then you're not. I'm so, so sorry I did that. I don't know what came over me, but I should have talked to you about it first. Kurt, I didn't mean to push you. Please believe me."

"I do. I just – Please don't do it again, Blaine."

"I won't, Kurt. I swear. I'm so sorry."

"I know. It's – Well, it's not okay, but … I understand. I'm not mad at you."

Kurt took a deep breath and nodded once. That was the end of the conversation. Or so Blaine had thought, but Kurt was just full of surprises tonight.

"Don't you … take preventative measures before our dates?" Kurt asked. Blaine furrowed his brow, because he wasn't following. "You know, to make sure _that_ won't happen."

The fact that he gestured to Blaine's still prominent erection didn't ease the sexual tension he felt at all. He shifted a little, but his pants were too tight to adjust himself without actually touching, and he knew that wouldn't go over well.

"Kurt, I don't understand."

Kurt scowled at him. "And I'm the baby penguin? Blaine, don't you … _take preventative measures_? That's what I do before our dates, and it really helps."

"Kurt, you can put as much emphasis as you want on – _Oh!_"

It clicked, and Blaine's jaw slackened because he could not believe he was talking about masturbation with his sex-shy boyfriend. His sex-shy boyfriend who just admitted to masturbating before all their dates. His jaw worked, but no words found their way to his vocal chords for several moments.

"But you have a boner too!"

Great. That was not what he'd meant to say at all. Kurt's cheeks flamed, and his arms snaked around his waist, as if to protect him from these dirty, dirty words Blaine was saying to him.

"Mine isn't as bad as yours!" Kurt snapped. "And … I'm – I'll – I mean, when I get home …"

Blaine's eyes bugged out.

"You jerk off _after_ our dates too?"

Kurt, apparently, decided he was not having this conversation, but since he couldn't kick Blaine out of his bedroom this time, he fished his keys out of his pocket and stomped off down the driveway towards his Navigator.

"Kurt!"

The countertenor paused and glanced over his shoulder. "I'll see you Monday."

Knowing Kurt wasn't mad at him for pushing verbal boundaries as well as sexual boundaries relaxed him. Too much. Because his mouth had this bad habit of saying inappropriate things without his brain's permission when cute boys were around.

"I'll make sure to jerk off first."

"On second thought, I'm busy Monday," Kurt snarled.

He slammed the car door and drove off. He refused to respond to Blaine's apologetic text messages and voicemails for the rest of the weekend, and only deigned to call Blaine back after he'd threatened to drive to Lima and serenade him because he didn't want his dad to have to witness Blaine singing _I'm In Love With a Stripper_ or some other wildly inappropriate number to his son.

"That was a little harsh," Blaine protested. "I was actually going to sing _Sexy Bitch_."

Kurt had hung up, and Blaine had endured another day of the silent treatment, which meant their Monday coffee date actually was cancelled. Since Blaine had Warblers on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Kurt had glee on Wednesday and family dinner on Friday, they didn't see each other again until the following Saturday.

They had plans to see a double feature at the old drive-in: _Rebel Without A Cause_ and _A Streetcar Named Desire_. It had been Kurt's idea, and he was deliriously excited about it. He let slip during a late night phone call that he'd never cared much for old films (aside from musicals) until he'd started to notice how much Blaine looked like a 1950's movie star.

As he was getting ready for the date, Blaine had an idea, but he needed to run it by Kurt.

_Can I wear jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket? –B_

_Oh God. –K _

_Uh. I mean. Yes. Yes, you can wear that. –K _

Blaine stared at the phone for a solid five minutes. Because Kurt's "Oh God" could have been intended to be accompanied by an eye roll, except his next message made it abundantly clear it was a good "Oh God." And then he started thinking about their conversation last Saturday and Kurt, alone in his room, taking "preventative measures."

Blaine tiptoed across his bedroom and peered out into the hallway. He strained his ears, but didn't hear any sounds coming from his brother's room. Very slowly, he closed his bedroom door and twisted the lock.

Jesus, was he really going to do this? It wasn't the first time he'd ever jerked off. He'd been a teenage boy without a boyfriend for many years. He was a freaking masturbation expert at this point. And he had thought about Kurt while he jerked off. A lot. But touching himself as part of his pre-date preparations felt different than rubbing one out because Neil Patrick Harris looked hot in that picture on the Internet or because Kurt's ass looked so good in those red pants or because he was bored. When Kurt came to pick him up, he would _know_.

His beeping phone startled him.

_Are you going to wear that? I want to match. –K_

_Yes, but that's not why you're asking. –B_

Blaine held his breath. He could very well have pushed too far again, and this date would be cancelled too. But he didn't like not talking things through with Kurt. That was their thing – total honesty – and Kurt shouldn't get a pass just because he was uncomfortable.

_Blaine. –K_

Yeah, he was on thin ice here. His fingers tapped out an answer.

_I'd like to take your advice from last Saturday. I need some motivation. –B_

_What do you want me to say? I'm so hard for you right now? –K_

_Are you? –B_

_I am not sexting with you. –K_

_Are you touching yourself? –B_

The response was a long time in coming, but eventually Blaine's phone buzzed in his hand.

_Yes. Are you? –K_

Blaine's free hand flew to the bulge in his pants. He rubbed his palm over himself and moaned in relief. His head thumped against the door, and his eyes fluttered shut. His brain supplied an image of Kurt doing the same thing.

_Blaine? –K _

_Oh God, this was a bad idea. –K_

Blaine frantically typed at the keyboard one-handed. He could picture the flush in Kurt's cheeks and tears of humiliation welling in his eyes.

_Yes! –B _

_Yes, I am! Thinking out you. Got canary away. –B _

_Best idea everything. –B _

The phone slipped from his fingers and landed on the carpet with a dull thud. His other hand sped up, and suddenly it wasn't enough to palm himself through his pants. His whole body shook from want as he staggered across the room, tugging at the button and zipper as he went. His buzzing phone drew him back to the door.

_Masturbation and autocorrect are a bad combination. Text me when you're done. –K_

Blaine wasn't even curious what sorts of idiotic things his phone had made him say. He tugged off his shirt and pushed his tight jeans and boxer briefs down to the middle of his thighs. He settled into the pillows at the head of his bed and his ran his open palm along his length. His other hand teased his balls, and his legs fell open to accommodate the pleasure.

His eyes fell on the small bottle of hand lotion Kurt had left on his nightstand. It was some kind of organic blend Kurt had given him as a gift, and he was forever asking Blaine why his hands hadn't gotten any softer since Christmas. Blaine grinned a little mischievously. Wouldn't Kurt be so pissed if he knew what Blaine actually used it for?

Blaine pumped the bottle twice, and without any pretense, wrapped his hand around his cock. A low, guttural moan tore from his throat. He moved his hand quickly, squeezing and twisting just below the head. His hips bucked up on the down stroke, setting a furious rhythm at the memory of Kurt's lips against his and Kurt's hard on against his hip and Kurt's hand around his own cock right at this moment filled his mind.

His phone buzzed on the comforter, and he considered ignoring it, but it was from Kurt. He tapped the screen with his hand not currently slathered in expensive lotion. He continued stroking himself, rubbing his thumb over his slit and thrusting while he tried to decipher the picture.

The background was pale, the soothing, pleasant color of a peach, but with a light dusting of blond hairs. A whitish, semi-liquid something formed the forefront of the picture. Come, his brain told him. Kurt's come on Kurt's stomach.

"_Kurt!_"

Blaine screwed his eyes up tightly, and with a deep grunt, came over his hand and stomach. He stroked himself through it and came down shuddering. He sagged against the pillows, his softening cock in one hand and picture of Kurt's come in the other. He dragged his arm up, snapped a picture of the come on his own stomach, and sent it to Kurt.

While he waited for a reply, he cleaned himself up with tissues. He'd need to get into the bathroom he shared with his brother before too long.

_This is obscene. –K_

_You started it. Personally, I think it would be less dirty if we did it in person. –B_

_Change of plans. –K_

Blaine groaned in frustration and beat his head against the headboard. He'd thought that after jerking off at the same time and sending each other pictures of their come Kurt might be a little more open. He started typing out a reply, but another message came from Kurt.

_You're picking me up tonight. I have the house to myself. –K_

_Seriously? –B_

_Seriously. Dad and Carole are at a car show. Finn has a date with Rachel. –K_

_That's not what I meant. –B_

_I know what you meant. Stop overanalyzing and get over here. –K_

Blaine didn't need to be told twice. Before he left the house, he snapped a picture of his reflection in the mirror and sent it to Kurt. He was wearing tight skinny jeans, a white v-neck, and his distressed leather jacket. With his gelled hair, and the sexy, sated look in his eye he could kind of see what Kurt meant about resembling a 1950's movie star.

_Hurrah! –K _

_Huzzah! –K_

_Damn it! –K_

_Harry! –K_

_Harry! –K_

_Fuck! –K_

_Hurry! –K_

Blaine laughed. Because masturbation and autocorrect are a bad combination.


End file.
